No kings in my neighborhood

Why I stayed close to home on June 14.

When air travel stinks, it really stinks. I’m not talking here about catastrophic events, but about mundane ordeals such as weather delays. Yesterday Bill and I spent nine hours in the Cleveland airport, waiting for a line of storms to cross the East Coast. Having left our Airbnb for the airport at noon, we finally boarded the plane at 10:20 p.m., arriving home in DC at 1:30 in the morning.

I’m exhausted, so this post will be short. But I do want to share a few reflections about last Saturday, June 14 – No Kings Day – because it gave me more hope and optimism than I’ve felt in a long time.

It had partly to do with what the day wasn’t. It wasn’t the Women’s March, a centralized, leader-driven event drawing millions in their pussy hats to the National Mall. That made a big statement in 2017. It would likely be met with shrugs today.

Instead, the core of the nation’s capital was depopulated, left to Trump and his minions along with a small crowd of onlookers who showed up for the Army parade. Across the country, meanwhile, an estimated 5 million people turned out in big cities, small towns, and rural areas to protest. The message was simple: The United States is a country of laws. No one is above the law. The president is not a king.

The actions were leaderless, at least in the sense of any top-down direction. Many were spontaneous, with people gathering on short notice to wave banners from highway bridges or in front of Fox News. They were, above all, local, melding seamlessly with homegrown community events like picnics and Pride parades. And that, I believe, was their strength.

The annual Pride Popup in my neighborhood on June 14.

How I spent the day

Every large city had marchers, in the tens of thousands, but the flagship march was in Philly. I debated taking the train up, but opted instead to stay in DC. I’m glad I did.

In the morning, Bill and I, with several neighbors, waved “No Kings” signs to traffic streaming down 16th Street NW, a commuter artery that runs through my neighborhood, Mt. Pleasant. The response was a cacophony of honks: one car would start, then they’d all join in. Even Metrobus drivers gave brief, professional toots. I know: it’s a blue city. If you don’t get honks here, where would you get them? Still, the message – “We’re in this together” – resonated.

After picking up some NOPE flyers to hand out, I went across town to what was billed as a “pro-democracy picnic” in a public park. With food trucks, live music, and families relaxing on blankets on the grass, it could have been any community get-together, but for all the “No Kings” signs toted by picnic-goers and the tables with sign-up sheets for joining local Dems and likeminded groups.

My last stop of the day was the best. The Mt. Pleasant 5th Annual Pride Popup, held in an alley a few blocks from my home, drew a large part of the neighborhood, gay and straight. We didn’t have Tara Hoot, DC’s drag queen, this year, but there were games and rainbow tattoos, burgers on the grill, and best of all, Gina DeSimone and the Moaners, an all-female, DC-based dance band. And we danced! I didn’t think my aging body could do that, but somehow, it did.

With fellow volunteers at the Mt. Pleasant Village table.

At the Pride fest, I sat for a while at the Mt. Pleasant Village table, where we sold T‑shirts and signed up new members. The Village is an all-volunteer neighborhood association formed 10 years ago, and to my surprise, it has changed my life, greatly expanding my circle of friends. The membership skews older, and one of the goals is to “meet the challenges of aging in the community.” There are exercise programs and field trips, as well as a “neighbors helping neighbors” program for requesting rides, tech support, or other such help. No one thought it odd that I taped my “No Kings” sign behind the Village table and handed out NOPE flyers along with Village lit. Officially nonpartisan, the Village reflects the progressive ethos of the neighborhood and counts many activists among its members.

Mt. Pleasant Village members stroll through the neighborhood.

Building local power

The Trump administration’s capture of elite social institutions such as universities, law firms, and media outlets has triggered alarm. Just as consequential, I would argue, is the MAGA movement’s steady, long-term entrenchment in local communities through its members’ participation in churches, fraternal orders, parent-teacher organizations, and similar entities. From there it’s a short jump to local governance structures like school boards, city councils, and county commissions, and then to state legislatures. And we know how that’s worked out for the GOP.

Those who value democracy and oppose autocracy need to follow a similar strategy. We need to embed. So on No Kings Day I stayed home, joining others in communities across the country to say no to democratic backsliding. We showed the power of our numbers that day, not by convening one massive march but by gathering locally in more than 2,000 cities and towns. Protests erupted in blue and red states, even deep in Trump country, places like Cooper County, Missouri, and Brazos County, Texas. Hundreds of organizations took part, from national networks like Indivisible down to hyperlocal groups.

Apparently hoping for violence, Trump blustered, “For those people that want to protest, they’re going to be met with very big force.” But on No Kings Day, the force was with us.